Paul Farley, 11 August 2016
He operates out of unremarkable premises. The smell of peardrops comes from the spray-and-body shop. On the other side it’s paintball: NEMESIS.
Come in. Please be careful. Mind your step. He keeps them in the dark. It stinks, I know. Like a stable or a paddock. Perspective slackens like an ankle rope
in a gallery. Carpets sleep off the world, digesting its flash and glamour, its...